


An Intoxicating Proposition

by Lady_Frija



Series: Mistress to a Malfoy [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cheating, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Infidelity, Romance, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Frija/pseuds/Lady_Frija
Summary: Hermione goes to Lucius to confess an embarrassing truth and conduct an experiment. If he’s willing...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Series: Mistress to a Malfoy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650319
Comments: 42
Kudos: 170





	An Intoxicating Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to “Leave the Bottle”. It can be read alone but will make more sense in the ‘pick up’ if you’ve read the first installment.

Hermione Granger sat on a bench in the park striving to gather her courage.

Courage. _Ha_.

Laughable.

Courage would have never been getting herself in this situation in the first place. Courage would have been resisting the stirring nature of that damned cocktail and walking away. Courage would have been never thinking of him again. Courage would have been fucking obliviating herself if she had to, anything to avoid what she was doing now, and courage would most assuredly be not doing it at all.

Yet here she was. Berating herself mercilessly for what felt like the hundredth time. 

She and Ron had always had disagreements. Bickering. Fights. They had always had struggles and differences but no matter how much they fought or how much he might hurt and frustrate her, she would never want to cause him the hurt that she had when he had caught her in that room with Lucius Malfoy…

He had paused. He had waited. He had given her the chance to say no. Why, oh why had she not said no?! And what did it say that she had not only enjoyed it but was still thinking about it – about him – three months later?

_He made you feel something. He made you feel passion and you want that…_

One accidental mix up… One slip up from one bar tender. It had been one hell of an aphrodisiac, that was for sure. It stirred desire, it heightened the senses, but it had not taken away her agency, and she had given in. She had made that choice. They had made that choice. Not surprising for a man like Malfoy, but she had always thought better of herself. It was that choice that she would not have been surprised if Ron hadn’t been able to forgive, but he had. Sort of. After he stopped yelling long enough for her to explain what had happened.

She had even taken him back to the Odyssey and ordered the same drink – intentionally this time, with consent forms to be signed at delivery of the drinks instead of at ordering, she noted wryly – and spent the night with Ron there. Though she would never admit it to Ron, the effects were the same as she had experienced with Malfoy, but the feelings were much more muted. The sad part was it had been the best sex they’d had together. Something Ron lately hadn’t been subtle about… 

_“Maybe you should see a healer.” Ron suggested lazily after one night of lackluster intimacy at home._

_“A healer?” Hermione asked, swallowing down her frustration and disappointment as usual, her body still heated with arousal and nowhere to put it, like a string pulled too tight and refusing to break._

_“Why?”_

_“Well, I mean… you were fine with the potion when we tried it. But without it, you don’t seem to enjoy it much.”_

She had wanted to scream. Maybe if he did more than short, predictable foreplay followed by laying on top of her for a few minutes she _would_ enjoy it! But, of course, the problem was her.  
Suggesting she needed a healer was just the latest in a long continuous stream of insults from him. Cold, dry, disinterested, boring… just a few of the adjectives he’d used in past “discussions”. Worse, he didn’t even notice how insulting he was, and the times she’d made the mistake of telling him how hurtful it was, he’d gotten angry with her, to say nothing of the petulance she had come to expect no matter how gently she had tried to explain that she needed more from their lovemaking, not the clumsy, mechanical, repetitiveness… No, she was numb, stilted, repressed, and needed a healer according to him. 

Why was she doing this to herself?

To make matters worse, she had actually given in and gone with his suggestion and sat through a humiliating and uncomfortable visit to St Mungo’s _and_ a muggle clinic. A thorough exam and embarrassing personal questions and both had given her the same result: There was absolutely nothing physically wrong with her.

She had reflected on this with a sigh on a park bench a few blocks from her shared flat with Ron. She could not face going home right now… She was still so hurt and irritated.

It was _not_ the night she had shared with Lucius. These problems preexisted him, but for so long she had thought what she and Ron shared was normal. It was what sex was limited to. It was as good as it got. Or worse, that she was defective, something was wrong with her like Ron told her so many times.

But then… then she _did_ think of the night she spent with Lucius, and his parting words the next morning. The fire in his eyes, the heat in his touch, the hungry way he gripped her as he thrust into her. The delicious way he filled her. The power and tension in his body, the indescribable ecstasy blinding her as he drove her body to the limit, drawing climax after shattering climax from her flesh.

In the dark of the night, to her utmost shame, in fevered, desperate dreams, she could still hear him whispering to her as they clung together:

_“Yes love… once more for me… once more.”_

The feelings he had elicited with barely a touch the morning after… long after the potion faded… had haunted her almost worse than the actual sex.

_“Are you still convinced it was merely the potion alone?” he queried, softly touching her parted lips_

“No, I’m not.” She said aloud. That was what she needed to find out for sure.

Was it her? Was she _that_ cold and dry and lifeless that she needed a potion to addle her… to force her to feel like a woman? Did she want the answer?

To her shame and distress, she found she did. Or she would never stop wondering. The truth was she could not get him – or their encounter - out of her head. The way his hands felt, the strength in his hold, the burning in his eyes when he looked at her even after the potion had faded. Even that stupid smug smirk on his lips. All of it had been distractingly intoxicating. And she wanted to know if it was the potion… or them.

She had sat at her desk at the ministry writing and rewriting, scratching things out, crumbling the parchment, slumping forward in despair as she struggled to figure out what to write. With a huff she slapped her hand down and picked the quill back up. Alright. Short and to the point. He would understand her meaning without her having to be crass. Unless he decided to be intentionally difficult.

_“Mr. Malfoy. I have questions regarding our last meeting. There is a muggle hotel across town called the Novotel. It’s very modern and businesslike. If you are amenable to a discussion with me, please meet me in the hotel restaurant attached to the lobby on Saturday at 3pm, or feel free to suggest a more convenient day and time. I work until 4:30 on weekdays. Regards, Hermione Granger.”_

It took her 45 minutes to work up the courage to send it.

It took her another 30 minutes of pacing in her office when she received a reply to open it and read it.

_“I look forward to meeting with you. The Novotel in London, 3pm. Yours. Lucius.”_

And now she was here on this bench, at 2:55 on Saturday, her heart pounding, wondering where the hell her head was at…

Closing her eyes, smoothing her hands across her skirt she stood and apparated. She arrived in front of the sleek building with high glass windows. She stood still staring at the glass. She could see her reflection clearly. She touched her mass of barely smoothed curls and wondered if the dress had been appropriate. Smart, black, halter top with a spencer style shrug to go over it. What did one wear when you were about to proposition a man while making it look like a business meeting?

Summoning her nerve, she walked through the large sleek doors into an impressive lobby. It was large, gleaming white tile and tall columns that looked like marble. She briefly wondered if it was real or made to look that way. A long reception desk graced the far wall and she turned and found the restaurant busier than she’d have thought. Black tables and smoothly upholstered leather chairs, dark blue lights reflected down into the darkened but still pleasantly lighted room. It was standard fare as far as an upscale meeting room went, and it was easy to find the very NOT standard wizard she was looking for, at a smaller table for two along the far wall.

_Last chance to back out, Granger._

Lifting her chin stubbornly, appearing far more collected than she felt, Hermione walked across the large room and caught his eye as she looked up. He blended in as much as a man like him could and as he stood in stubborn gentlemanlike fashion, straightening his black suit jacket, his pale hair tied back simply, she was struck at once as she had been before how handsome he was, and she swallowed passed the sudden dryness in her throat.

“Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for seeing me.”

“I was intrigued to receive your message.” He acknowledged with a smirk, gesturing to the seat across from him.

She sat down with a deep breath, smoothing her hands over her skirt as she adjusted her chair closer to the table.

“Given the hour, I took the liberty of ordering tea.” He said, leaning back in his chair to survey her with interest.

“Thank you.” she replied, turning her attention briefly to the white porcelain tea service on the table and the plate of savories and sandwiches. Thinking of food made her already anxious stomach flip violently. Tea. Tea would be the thing.

Her hands were steady as she poured a cup of tea, sugar and milk and stirred it. It was a feat that surprised her greatly given her level of anxiety. Lucius was watching her intently hand at his lips pensively as he did so and she pretended not to notice. Where did one even begin?

Hermione cleared her throat as she took a healthy sip of tea and set her cup down. “You’re probably wondering why I asked you here.”

His eyes sparkled. “I have ideas but perhaps you should clarify.”

Hermione’s heart raced and her cheeks flushed as she dropped her gaze. “When we last saw each other…” she began, before stammering silently.

“The Odyssey.” He supplied when she faltered.

“Yes.” She blushed deeper. “When you left the following morning… you said, I would know where to find you.”

He laced his hands together over his abdomen, his eyes darkening in a way that made her body turn to liquid. Predatory. Possessive. “I did indeed.”

“I was curious… that is I wanted to know…” _Oh just spit it out Granger_ , she scolded herself. _You’ve already done it with him, talking about it can’t possibly be worse._ “Should I have taken that to mean you would not object to… repeating the experience. I mean, not the _same_ experience. I don’t want to ever have that blasted potion again. But…”

Oh god this was mortifying.

Lucius leaned forward on his forearms. “You mean would I object to the possibility of burying myself inside of you and driving you into oblivion again?”

Hermione gasped silently, her breath hitching. One question. One damned question and her body clenched and ached at the memory. _Focus, Hermione._ She cast a glance at the crowded tables around them, each group and pair lost in the din of their own conversations.

“You needn’t worry.” He drawled, lifting his teacup to his lips, “I cast a silencing charm on the table when I arrived.”

She nodded and swallowed hard. It was out there. It was done. Now she only awaited the answer.

“Ms. Granger. I may be damn near 50, but I am a healthy man with the same needs as any other man.” He said meeting her gaze head on. “My wife has made it clear I should seek fulfillment of those needs elsewhere and you are a young, beautiful, sensible woman, whose company and body I enjoyed immensely. I think I returned the feeling in some measure?”

She didn’t immediately answer, and he raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Yes.” She answered. “Though regrettable on standards of morality, the evening we shared was… exceedingly pleasant.”

Lucius laughed, not seeming insulted by her terming it regrettable. “Yes, and it is just those standards of morality I wish to address. My point is you do not need to sell _me_ on the merits of having you again. I’d gladly cast a few privacy charms, push that sleek little skirt over your hips and take you right here over this table.”

Hermione’s belly clenched and her core flooded with need at the imagery. _Oh god._

“But,” he continued. “You have more to lose than I and were quite insistent that the evening we shared was potion induced desperation and ought not be repeated. You are still in a relationship with another man, I am still technically married. So, I am _extremely_ interested in why the change of heart.”

Hermione took a moment to collect her thoughts as she sipped her tea before setting it down again with a small clatter. “Cards on the table?”

He gestured permissively. “Please do.”

“Before you left you asked if I was sure it was only the potion… the truth is I’m not sure anymore. And I am interested in… an experiment of sorts. Another encounter. No potion. No strings attached. No expectations. A test of the theory and we part ways.”

“Unless of course you decided you enjoyed testing the theory.” He suggested.

She had no answer to that. “If you are amenable.”

Lucius leaned forward again; his hands folded on the table. He smirked, his eyes gleaming with the same hungry, calculating look she remembered from the night at the bar. “Then I suppose it's fortuitous you chose a meeting place with such conveniently located private rooms. If you are available this afternoon.”

Hermione’s heart was pounding with such force she was becoming dizzy. He was actually agreeing, and she was actually about to do this. “I am.”

Lucius stood abruptly and walked past her. She forced herself to maintain a demure and calm posture and after several minutes he returned, stopping behind her and extending his hand towards her.  
“Our room awaits us, my dear.”

She looked up at him curiously. That was fast. “You already had a room ready, didn’t you?”

Lucius smirked. “I’m many things Ms. Granger. A fool isn’t one of them.”

She wanted to be irritated with his presumption. He was so nauseatingly confident she’d want him again. But she _did_ want him so really what could she say? Hermione laid her hand in his and drew her breath in sharply at the spark of heat in her palm that danced along his. Her body already anticipating what they intended to do, she felt the ache between her thighs that had thus far only teased and hinted began to pulse in aggressive longing…

Lucius helped her to her feet, and she grasped her bag in her other hand as he placed the one in his grasp on his arm and escorted her out the room across the lobby to the lifts. A brief careless look at the card key in his hand and he ushered her into the lift and hit one of the buttons before spinning. The door barely closed before his arms were around her waist and his lips were pressing against hers in hungry urgency.

She gasped at the sudden gesture, her eyes widening slightly at the sudden contact but as his hands smoothed over her backside, and his lips coaxed hers apart so he could invade and explore the warm cavern of her mouth, she swayed, clutching the lapels of his shirt and moaning at the painfully intensifying need. His chest heaving, her arms slipping around his neck, her hand thrusting through his hair she returned his fervor, and nearly cried out when he pushed her back against the wall of the lift and pinned her between the handrail and his body… Already she was desperate for him. Already he was hard and throbbing. And there was no drug coursing through her. No herb addling her mind and ravaging her body – or his. This was pure, desperate passion.

The lift jerked to a stop and he released her abruptly, his eyes bright and wild, a predatory smirk curving his lips. “This will be an interesting experiment I think.” He said, straightening his clothing before turning to the opening doors.

Fortunately, no one was there as they stepped off the lift, for she was sure anyone would have immediately known what they were up to. He took her hand briskly and pulled her into the dimly lit but cozily carpeted and decorated hallway, escorting her down the corridor and stopping at a door midway.

Reaching into his tailored suit pocket he withdrew the keycard. She gave a soft, involuntary inhale of breath and Lucius paused. “Sure, about this, Ms. Granger? Second thoughts already?”

Hermione raised her chin, eyes flashing in defiance. He smirked, raising an intrigued eyebrow as she stepped forward and plucked the keycard from his hand, her breasts brushing saucily against his arm as she slipped between him and the door and unlocked it herself. 

He followed her inside the well-kept room. It was bright, the blinds open in the large windows lining the far sepia colored walls illuminating the dark carpeting and pristine white coverings on the sleek modern bed. Little else adorned the room, a large, sumptuously decorated bathroom on one side of the entry, closet on the other, a small table with two slender armchairs, a desk and chair and chest of drawers under the television on the wall. 

Calmly, and in no hurry, Lucius removed his outer jacket and laid it across the back of one of the armchairs. Waving his wand, the blinds snapped closed, plunging the room into temporary darkness before the dimmer lights were raised, trading bright fluorescent glow for a milder darker light. That was all she noticed. Devoid of the outer garment, she swallowed hard as she appreciated the trim figure he made, black trousers hugging his hips, the dark burgundy button down shirt comfortably fit across his broad shoulders and chest and she felt herself growing dizzy from lack of effective oxygen.

_Good Godric’s gravy boat… He hasn’t even bloody touched me yet and I’m already more hot and bothered than I’ve been in… ever._

He crossed the room to the table where she just now noticed a sleek ice bucket and bottle of wine waiting. 

“Glass of wine?” he smirked and titled his head to the side, eyes dancing as he lifted the bottle and a glass. “It’s a fresh bottle. We can enjoy with clear heads what the drug clouded.”

“Undrugged…” she acknowledged, moving further into the room. “I’m not so sure about clear heads.”  
Lucius poured the glasses and took the few languid paces to where she now stood. With a deep breath she tossed her handbag on the dresser as he approached. She had lost her mind completely. Not once, but twice she had found herself in a locked room with Lucius Malfoy alone with no one knowing where she was. He must have seen the suspicion in her eyes for he drew his wand again carefully and laid it away from him on the dresser.

“I have no desire or need to hex you, Ms. Granger.” he said, extending the glass towards her. “I’ll ask you again. Do you actually want this?”

Her hand shook as she accepted the wine glass and took a healthy sip. “Y-yes.” She stammered. “I need to know.”

“So you’ve implied.” he replied, watching her as he took a drink from his own glass. “I want to know why.”

His eyes glinted triumphantly. “Ah. I see. Love life been a bit disappointing lately? Or was it never spectacular to begin with?”

Her cheeks flamed.

Lucius chuckled darkly. “Have you been trying to convince yourself it was the potion all this time?” He clucked his tongue. “You poor dear.”

He was close now. She smelled his cologne clearly, felt his body heat and his fingertips ran slowly down her side, over her hip, and back up to her breast. “Let me see if I can guess how you arrived at this desire to test this theory.” He whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her flesh. “Try as you may to be a faithful woman, you couldn’t get our night together out of your mind.” 

His chest brushed lightly against her shoulder as he moved behind her, pulling her shrug from her. “ _It was the drink,_ you told yourself. _The potion made me feel that way,_ you said.” He leaned in, pressing against her back, his fingertips trailing over the exposed flesh of her shoulder and her breasts heaved gently with the panting breaths his touch drew from her. “How long did you manage to convince yourself it was nothing more?”

He set his wine glass down and put his arms around her as she swayed into him and she closed her eyes. “But then you remembered the morning after. Still. You told yourself, _it's only residual effects surely._ But then you began to wonder…”

Hermione bit her lip as his hands began to roam, one down her hip over her backside, the other up over her breasts. He pinched her nipple gently through the fabric of her dress and it was all she could do to keep from crying out. Her center began to clench and pulse. 

Her heart was pounding. He turned her to face him, hands still on her and kissed her deeply. She tasted him, the wine, a bit of mint, and she moaned against his lips. She could feel him pressed against her.

Lucius suddenly broke the kiss and stepped back; his eyes as unfocused as hers likely were. She blinked in confusion and interrupted lust as he moved away from her, picking up his wine glass and grasping one of the armchairs, moving it towards the foot of the bed. She watched him curiously as he sat down.

“What are you wearing under that?” he asked, his voice rough. “Show me. Take it off.” 

Hermione took another bracing swallow of wine and set the glass aside, stepping forward she reached up and unsnapped the discreet closure at the halter of her dress. The straps fell and she looked up. Lucius was leaning on the arm of the chair, hand under his chin pensively as he watched her, a veritable fire in his gaze. She was breathless at it, seeing the very real -and non-medicated - desire in his eyes. And she smiled as she noticed the sharp uptick in his breathing.

Hermione stood between him and the bed, facing away from him and pulled her hair aside off the nape of her neck. “Um... the zipper. I… I need help.”

His eyes sparkled as she glanced at him over her shoulder. “No, you don’t. But I’ll play along.”

Lucius raised his hand and made a “come hither” gesture and she bit back a moan. He indicated she should perch on his knee and as she settled on him, his hand brushed her bare skin above her shoulder blades and tugged the zipper easily downward, and she arched her back with gasp as his warm lips pressed featherlight kisses to each bit of skin he revealed.

The nagging ache between her legs intensified sharply, leaving her breathless and fighting back a lustful moan. His hands gripped her hips as she felt him take a shuddering breath, his forehead pressed gently against her back.

“Stand and turn.” he commanded.

Her hands crossed over her breasts to hold her dress in place, she did as he said. Standing and taking a step forward she turned, dizzy and longing for the hunger burning in his glacial eyes, his lips parted slightly. Her body was trembling. She shouldn’t be this nervous. He had seen her before. 

Because now he’s got his wits about him. She thought in a rush.

But she didn’t come here to be a coward and she dropped her hands, letting the dress fall forward and with a gentle tug over the slight swell of her hips the dress pooled on the floor at her feet. She smiled softly as Lucius’ control faltered, his face registering surprise at the black lacey lingerie and garters and his gaze raked over her appreciatively. “Oh, my dear…” he said, a slow predatory smile curving his lips. “Very interesting experiment indeed.”

His opinion shouldn’t matter. She knew that. But his approving assessment sent her body quivering anyway. 

“You are absolutely stunning. Come here.”

He held out his hand, palm up, invitingly and she obeyed on legs that suddenly felt like jelly. He looked up and down her body again in open appreciation as she approached him.

Hermione swallowed hard, her mouth dry, her eyes drifting closed as he reached his hand forward and slid his palm up her bare thigh. She heard him move forward in the chair and felt another hand slide up over her other thigh. His grip paused at the swell of her hips and tugged her forward so that she was standing between his knees. 

Emboldened, she straddled him and began undoing the buttons of his shirt, each revealing more of him, and she rocked slowly as she worked, pulled at his belt, tugged his shirt free of his waistband and untied his hair. His chest and abdomen were heaving with each ragged breath he dragged into his lungs as he watched her.

“Enough.” He commanded but she smirked at the choked tone of his voice. “I’ve no potion induced endurance tonight, and I intend to give you plenty of material for you to study your theory with. I have some questions to answer myself.”

He was tantalizingly hard, she could feel him pressed between her thighs and she flexed her hips grinding against him, his shaft giving her such delicious friction, pulling a whimper from her thinly pressed lips. Lucius gave her a look of warning before gripping her hips again to still her, but he seemed intrigued by her involuntary sound. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a deliciously responsive woman as you, Hermione Granger.”

Her surprise must have shown on her face, for he drew back slightly and studied her, the teasing tone suddenly vanished. “What did he say to you?” he asked after several moments of analytical silence.

She swallowed. “W-what?”

Lucius gripped her chin firmly but painlessly. “Tell me the words he used.”

She took a breath and shook her head slowly, feeling no pleasure at recalling the thinly and not so thinly veiled insults. “Frigid. Stiff. Dry. Boring. Numb.” 

She could have kept going but her voice wavered, and she turned her head away in shame to hide the tears that hovered and threatened before he could see.

Hermione would be lying if she said she did not think he might react with revulsion or at the very least irritation or typical male apathy at the sight of tears but she felt his hands slide up the back of her neck to splay against her scalp and he turned her head back to face him. Hermione watched in quiet fascination, the wheels turning behind his eyes. He seemed to be contemplating something distressing. “This isn’t entirely about what exists between us, is it? You want to know if he’s right.”

Hermione wasn’t prepared to have her deepest insecurities laid out and exposed so shockingly quickly and bluntly and the small well of tears that threatened, spilled from under her lashes. She turned away hurriedly to hide them again, but Lucius held her still and then dragged her face down to his. He captured her in a kiss, deep slow and passionate and she felt something shift in his intentions and method.

She trembled in his grip. Whimpered and moaned against his lips as his arms came around her waist, hands roaming and caressing over her back and hips leaving little trails of tingling warmth from his touch. Her fingers curled in the fabric of his open shirt, splayed against the hard expanse of his chest, the toned plane of his belly. 

With a gasp he broke the kiss. “Lean back.”

Hermione’s heart was thundering in her breast and she sucked in a sharp breath of anticipation as she realized what he wanted her to do. His hand braced on her back, she leaned backward over his arm to rest on the side of the chair. Her body arched; her breasts offered up to him unreservedly. With his other hand, he swung her leg up over his other knee, leaving her legs parted wantonly in his grip as he cradled her.

It was a tantalizing paradox of safety and exposure, of intimacy and eroticism. She swallowed down a moan, biting her lip as the deep, throbbing ache burned between her open thighs. She gripped his shoulder with one hand, and the seat of the chair beneath them for stability. She would need every bit of it as he lifted his hand and gripped her chin, his thumb dragging across her lips.

His jaw ticked in restraint and he shook his head slightly. “Tsk tsk.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “That won’t do.”

She looked up questioningly, panting as he trailed his fingers down her body.

“There will be no holding back. I want to hear you…”

To emphasize his demand, he pinched her breast and her body jolted at the sudden pain and pleasure and the keening moan she had been holding back broke free. His hand was already slipping over her belly, down her side and ghosted over her center. Stubbornly, he didn’t go further, but merely traced the edge of her panties, drawing lazy circles lower until he was teasing the heated swollen bundle of nerves through the fabric.

“Do you feel frigid?” he purred.

“No.” she moaned. Gods above she was on fire.

She could not hold back if she wanted to. She gasped and arched her body, subconsciously or perhaps consciously, seeking the pressure and friction she knew he could provide.

“Stiff?” he asked as he pressed his palm at her center, stroking and massaging her, stoking her into a frenzy of writhing need.

“No!” she cried out, her back arching again, driving her hips upward. She was putty in his hands.

Lucius leaned down, covering her mouth with his, dragging into a brief but stirring kiss. She felt him smirk. “I can assure you, not boring. Let’s see about dry, shall we?”

He slipped his hand inside of her and her body jerked and clenched around him at the sudden invasion. Her moans and gasps turned into a shriek of surprise and bliss. It wasn’t enough, not when she knew how he felt thrusting inside of her, but it was a tantalizing teaser, nonetheless. She covered his hand with her own, desperate to keep him there, her eyes screwed shut tightly against the onslaught of sensations. His thumb pressed firmly against her clit, circling her in precise strokes, his other fingers pumping inside of her slowly, driving her upwards towards madness.

“No.” he chuckled. “Not dry in the slightest.”

Hermione came apart in his hands. Her head thrown back as his hand moved against her, a scream tore from her throat, her body seizing and shaking. She fought for air, her lungs feeling frozen and stunned into noncompliance and with a shuddering strangled gasp she cried out his name like a desperate prayer.

As he withdrew his hand, and the tremors ceased he hauled her up from his lap, crushing her against his chest and claiming her lips again in a deep frenzied kiss. “How about numb?”

She was limp and pliant and clutched his shoulder weakly as she chuckled breathlessly gazing up into his dancing, hungry eyes. 

“Can you stand?” he asked, panting.

“Are you crazy?” she laughed.

He chuckled darkly. But she climbed to her feet on shaking legs and he turned her by her hips so she could grip the bed for support. He unsnapped her bra and discarded it. Then his hand smoothed over her back, over her panties, garters, and nylons. “Take off the rest of this.” he ordered.

She nodded woodenly, bending to unfasten her heels. She heard and felt him stand, felt the brush of his trousers against the back of her thighs. As she fumbled to pull the shoes off, she heard him kicking off his own, stripping off his shirt and her hands trembled as she unsnapped her garters and tugged them off, stepping out of her panties and pulling down her nylons.

Hermione felt Lucius’ hands smooth over her bare hips and backside, caressing and stroking drawing whimpers of anticipation out of her. But he was growing impatient. He grasped hold of her and turned her to face him and she gasped as he lifted her up and perched her on the edge of the bed, her knees apart, on full display for his appraisal. His hands moved to his felt but she reached up to stop him.

“Let me.” she entreated, her voice rasping and heavy with her perpetual state of arousal. 

He dropped his hands to his sides obediently and she delayed her task. Yes, he was every bit as gorgeous as she remembered. His skin was hot and flushed as she touched him, and she could feel his heart pounding against her hand. Her body shivered as she began to undo his belt with painstaking and impatient precision and pulled his clothes away from his body. A whine of need rose in her throat as he stepped out of his trousers. 

“Is it intoxicating?” he asked gruffly. “Knowing the effect that you have on me?”

It wasn't the first time she’d seen him in this state, but now, it was with a clear mind and unmuddied senses. Her body ached at the hard, yearning shaft of flesh that made clear his need, but it wasn’t just his body that had her mewling like a cat in heat. His eyes burned as intensely as his body, and it was in his eyes she saw something so much deeper than she’d ever seen in a man before. Something so much further beyond boyish lust but a deep, abiding hunger to fulfill his own desires but also hers… 

Somehow knowing that desire wasn’t one sided made hers more acute and she looked up, her cheeks aflame with adrenaline and passion, her heart skipping at the hazy, amorous look in his eyes that she was sure she returned.

“Yes.” she admitted, “It is. It makes me feel like a woman.”

Lucius took a step and closed the distance; his hips brushed the inside of her knees. Her heart hammered harder, the pains between her thighs throbbing in a desperate frenzied staccato of anticipation, so intense that she arched her back, panting, moaning with the need it stirred.

“Lucius… Oh Lucius please… I need… I need...”

She was leaning back on her hands for support, her body angled, thighs parted to take him as she braced her heels on the edge. He pressed closer, she whimpered and hummed at the heated, straining flesh she felt barely grazing her center. His hand came to the back of her head, the other guiding himself firmly into her entrance, enough to make her gush with desire, but not enough to satisfy. 

“Yes, witch.” he pressed her with a hoarse whisper. “What do you need? Tell me.”

“You!” She declared with a strangled cry. “I need you! Please!”

With a hiss of pleasure and no further delay, Lucius thrust his hips forward and her body jolted with the force of his entrance. Hermione let go of a long, breathy moan and shrieking gasps at the feel of him sliding into her. Buried to the hilt, he held her onto himself firmly. He paused, his fingers gripping her hips tightly, and she writhed with a mewl of pleading pleasure.

“Careful.” He groaned. “Or this will be over far too quickly.”

But she would not be dissuaded. She longed to hear him grunting and panting with ecstasy. Clenching her tight inner walls around him she moaned again at the blissful feel of the fullness and pressure of him. She rocked her hips slowly, pleased and hazy eyed when she heard him breathe in sharply and felt his shaft jerk as he pressed deeper.

Lucius kept his thrusts controlled and measured, caressing her body with his. She returned his deliberate pace, meeting his strokes with a caress of her own. She felt him breathing heavily, groaning with pent up need. Then he let out an agonized growl and wrenched his manhood from her center.  
Hermione cried out in frustration and protest, gasping when he seized her hips and tossed her to the center of the bed roughly. She lay on the mattress on her back, panting in desperation, her knees spread wide, waiting for him as he lowered himself to the bed as well and knelt between her legs. It was as if he’d mapped her body before and remembered each contour, swell, and nerve. He ran his hands over her frame almost reverently, her nerves exploding with feeling with every touch. Suddenly, he straightened, pulling her up with him so that her breasts were pressed against his chest as he snapped his hips forward and his shaft was buried inside her again. She cried out as he pressed deeply against that hidden place deep within her inner walls – that place never touched this way before him, largely unknown by her… But judging by the smirk on his face as he thrust into her slowly, he knew just what he was doing.

“How does that feel?” He whispered gruffly.

Hermione could make no answer, except to gasp and moan loudly, which seemed answer enough. He smiled and continued his slow deliberate strokes. Her legs tightened around his waist, drawing him deeper into her.

“Do you want more my dear?”

What? More? _How_?!

“Follow your body, love. Do what it tells you.”

She angled her body, drawing her knees up to get leverage to pull him closer. The action shortened her channel and he plunged inward, and she arched her back as fresh pleasure swept through her again. He was everywhere, kissing and touching, sucking at her breast and she was lost in him. So very lost. 

Any restraint he had been exercising thus far, he had shed, and he took every inch he could take, filling her to bursting, slamming into her only to wrench free of her again roughly until she was screaming and writhing beneath him. She pressed up against him, meeting his thrusts, thrashing and moaning at the hot almost painful need winding impossibly tighter in her core. His body was pressed tightly against hers, stimulating her as he rocked his hips with every bruising stroke. Her vision blurred, she could feel her body quivering and clenching around his cock. “Yes! Yes!” she shrieked, her nails digging into his shoulders and raking down his chest.

His breath was ragged, and his groans grew more pained. “Hermione…” he breathed. “Hermione!”

“Yes!” she moaned. “Yes, Lucius! I’m there!”

“I know.” He said between grit teeth as he continued driving into her trembling, tight center. “Bloody hell…”

She watched in wonder as he began to unravel. He was leading her. He was over her, holding her down, but as he shuddered violently and his eyes drifted closed, struggling to maintain himself, she realized it was _she_ who was in control. It wasn’t the potion. It was _her_ making him lose himself. It was _her_ drawing that delicious primal groan from his lips. It was _her_ causing his body to shake like that.

It drew closer her own release, and suddenly with the next strong deep plunge, she was flying apart beneath him, her body breaking apart at the seams, tight around him. Her nails raked across his skin as she screamed his name, coming hard and violent, his thrusts became more erratic as she shook and convulsed beneath him still riding out the aftershocks of her release as he continued moving. She collapsed against the bed, barely able to think or see, and with an agonized roar, Lucius came, his seed bursting into her and she relished in the feel of his shaft pulsing and spilling deep inside her as he collapsed against her, chest heaving with exhaustion.

They lay for a few moments, panting and pressed together in silence. When he pulled away enough to look at her, he smirked down at her and she didn’t know if she wanted to grab him and kiss him and stroke him to mad arousal all over again or slap the arrogant look off his face. She lay gasping, her body trembling in the afterglow of their coupling, and he withdrew himself from her with a pained hiss, his own sweat sheened body trembling as badly as hers.

As he laid on his back, Lucius pulled her into his arms and she went willingly, her thighs slick with desire and his seed. She took deep slow breaths to calm her thundering heart. Her muscles tight, body spent she laid her head against his chest and he threaded his fingers through hers.

“I believe you have your answers Hermione.” He drawled, pressing a tired kiss against her temple. “The only question is... what are you going to do about it?”

Hermione settled easily into his embrace. “I… I don’t know.” she admitted, leaning her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “I just know I can’t continue on like this. I can’t lead Ron on. Even if you cast me off and I never see you again after this moment, I’m living a lie with Ronald. My thoughts drifting to you, seeing you in my dreams, feeling you touch me when I should be thinking of him… It's wrong.”

Lucius grasped her chin and looked at her intently. “Let me assure you. I have no intention of casting you off…”

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she studied his face. “You don’t? Then what do you want?”

In answer, Lucius lowered his head, kissing her soundly. She moaned, feeling her body ache all over again. Oh god it just wasn’t fair…

He broke the kiss and gently traced her thoroughly swollen lips with his thumb. “I want you. As often as you’ll have me. Be my mistress.”

The word gave her a shiver but visions of late-night calls and being ushered out the back door after afternoon quickies filled her mind. “Um… I’m leaving Ron because I don’t like the idea of a sidepiece. Having one or being one.”

Lucius chuckled darkly and shook his head slowly. “No, my dear. It’s a bit more than that.”

Hermione hated herself for it but she found the idea intriguing. Maybe it was the sexy, sultry tone of his voice as he said it, or the way his eyes burned as he kissed her hand to emphasize his point and desire. 

“So, then what would it entail exactly?” she braved to ask.

Lucius turned on his side and raised himself up to rest on his forearm, his expression and tone becoming profoundly serious. “I told you before. My wife demands and expects I fulfill my physical needs elsewhere. If I am completely honest, I do not foresee my marriage lasting much longer. But I will refrain from making you promises I do not know that I can keep. Being my mistress would give you financial and legal protection. You would be given living arrangements, or maintain your own whichever you prefer, and terms discussed at length and decided upon together.”

His explanation didn’t really clear anything up in her mind. “So, you keep me in a place and show up for sex and go back to your wife after we’re done?”

He smiled. “I doubt very much either of us would be content with such a relationship. The extent of our familiarity and companionship would be up to you. You keep your autonomy Hermione, as do I. I know pureblood aristocratic ways seem backwards and outdated to you. But what I am proposing is not sexual slavery or dressed up prostitution. I’m not planning to lock you up in a side suite just to take you out when I want you...” His eyes glinted dangerously. “Although the idea of you strapped to my bed _is_ a fetching one.”

Hermione’s core clenched involuntarily. Ohh yes, _that_ idea had potential.

“You continue as your own woman with your own goals and decisions.”

He was staring at her still, intent and focused and she found it difficult to think. All she wanted to do was grab him by the shoulders, push him back and ride him to oblivion again but that was hardly the right frame of mind to make such a large decision. All she knew was she wanted him. And this encounter was not going to be enough. She wanted more. But there were some obvious issues.

“I… Lucius this is… listen this is hot as hell with you. You make me feel things I didn’t think I could feel, and… on a personal level I… I’ve forgiven you for your past. I may even on some plane understand you, but… I’m not sure I… _like_ you.”

Rather than become irritable or insulted he smiled. “I’m not asking you to like me. I’m asking you to fuck me. If something more should develop… well.” he shrugged. “We’ll deal with it. But for now, I am simply a wizard very much entranced by a beautiful young witch and I’m willing to leave it at that.”

“This is a lot to process at once. I need to think about it.” she told him, curling her hand around his bicep.

“Of course.” he answered, raising her hand to his lips again in that elegant, sultry way of his. “Take all the time you need. But I won’t promise you I won’t pressure you. I’m a man who goes after what he wants after all.”

“Hermione raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly would you pressure me?”

Lucius raised his body over hers and gripped her hips, trailing hot teasing kisses between her breasts and down her belly. “Reminders of all you have to gain, of course. Allow me to demonstrate.”  
And Hermione whimpered in ecstasy as he dipped his head between her legs and she felt his sinful tongue trail tantalizingly along the inside of her thigh, knowing she wouldn’t mind being pressured in the slightest.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the second installment of the Mistress to a Malfoy Series, be on the look out for part 3!


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